


Dreaming of Malia (In Space)

by mute90



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 15:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16495097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mute90/pseuds/mute90
Summary: Stiles had many Princess Leia dreams but never this one.In other words, Stiles and Malia are sappy and love like Star Wars.





	Dreaming of Malia (In Space)

Stiles had the ‘Princess Leia in a bikini’ fantasy like any culturally aware teenager. Leia deserved all fascination and respect owed a woman who could choke a Hutt out in that outfit. It once showed up in his dreams for a week straight, a different person wearing it every night. (Once, he was looking at himself wearing the bikini, and then he got choked by himself. It was all strange and strangely arousing.) So, dreaming of Jabba’s palace was nothing new. There was just a distinct lack of gold bikinis and a lot of disorientation in the current dream.

“I can’t see,” Stiles said. The area around him was fuzzy and dark. He knew someone was with him, a human shape hovering above him. They touched his face and rubbed a hand down his harm. “Uh, who are you?”

The person reached up and began to pull off their clunky, oddly-shaped mask. As the mask moved upward, his vision began to clear. He recognized who it was as soon as the mask slipped past the lips, but he remained silent. It came off fully and was set aside. She looked at him, hair wavy and wild and her expression fierce. “Someone who loves you,” she said.

Stiles felt relief flow through him. What he was relieved about, he didn’t know. He just knew things got better in that single moment when he saw her face, heard her voice. “Malia,” he whispered.

… And he woke up to the girl tapping his face insistently. “Stiles! Hey! Wake up!” He caught her by the wrist. She was hovering over him, frowning and pouting at once. “You were saying my name,” she said. “You woke me up.”

Staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, he kissed her palm and breathed in the scent of her skin. “Sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut and saw the image again, practically stapled on his eyelids in film color.

She pulled her wrist free. She put one hand down over his heart and brought the other one up to his forehead. “You sound funny. Is something wrong? You don’t feel sick.”

“I was dreaming.”

“About me?” Malia’s fingers began to move. The ones on his forehead drifted down his cheek and tapped an unsteady rhythm on his lips. The others curled under his shirt and scratched at his collarbone. “A good dream? Was it a sex dream?” She sounded perky and devious at the thought, and he laughed with his lips pressed together. She curled a finger, pulling his bottom lip down. He darted forward and took it in his mouth. Throwing a leg over him, she said, “You're acting like it was a sex dream.”

He shook his head and let her finger slip from his mouth. He reached up and pushed a wave of hair behind one ear. “I love you,” he said, simply.

She gave him a small smile and tugged lightly at his shirt. “I know.”

He laughed again and pulled her down for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> 'tis my headcanon.


End file.
